Essence of the Blades
by MindTemple
Summary: Rose is Jim's sister who despises a scissor-handed man. When she looks for him, ready to attack with a knife, she gets locked in a room with him! In time, will she see that he is good, or leave with hate? Not your average EddyMakesAFriend Story.
1. Camping in the Mountains

**A/N: Hi everybody! This is my first Edward Scissorhands fanfiction. If there is any ****significant ****incorrect information, please correct me. You don't have to correct the little things, unless they lead to bigger things. **

**This story is told in the point of view of my original character, Rose. You will find out more about her throughout the story. **

**=D I don't know Jim's real last name, so I used a very common one, Smith. If you know the name, please tell me.**

**I saw the complete movie about two days ago. IT IS SO HARD TO FIND ON THE INTERNET! But, after much searching; I found it. =D It was on Youtube****. Thank God for the ones who pirate. No, I'm just kidding... it is bad. _ _  
**

**What I love about Edward Scissorhands is that he just wants someone to be with. Not necessarily love, but just some company. And, he is so awkward in that little suburban town. All of the happy, perfect people; and then this odd, black-haired, pale man with scissor hands stumbling around, trimming bushes.**

**So yes... this is the first chapter and I hope you like it! Please review... I need some motivation and I want to see what people think! **

**Yours truly,**

**Smiley1Face23**

* * *

My mother stood over the grave, mourning at the two year anniversary of my brother's death. My father held his glasses with one hand as he set a bouquet of flowers on the ground near his grave with the other.

I stared at the name and dates on the granite tombstone. My brother... my only brother. He was so young, and that was what aggravated me. I was only a year older than him, and I would live to be much older. He died at age nineteen.

He was bright and wonderful. He moved out after I did, but when we came together holidays, he was always exciting and had many stories to tell. There was no reason that he should have died the way he did.

Murdered.

Slaughtered.

By Evil.

I blinked and listened the only sound, except the cries and sniffs, of the rain patter on my umbrella.

A tear fell down the side of my face. I was really going to miss him. Even if he died two years ago, my love for him would never die.

"You know he watches us, and he loved you..." my mother whispered to me, offering a tissue from her purse. She used one for herself.

Using the tissue, I sighed. "I know. But he was such... a new soul. He had a lot going for him."

"Yes he did" her lower lip sucked in and I heard my father sigh.

The cemetery was dimly lit, for even though it was noon, the dark rain clouds seemed to defeat the illumination of the light posts.

I gazed over at the teenage girl who also stared at the grave. She didn't seem as solemn as the others, but she didn't seem happy. Her family seemed to be here, her father, mother, and little brother. Such scars on the brother's face... what happened there?

All in black, all in gray. All in sadness, all in remembrance. All in love, all in tears.

I read the grave one last time before I closed my eyes.

It read:

**Jim Smith**

** 1982-2000**

** Son, lover, and remembered.**

!#%*()^)_++*$#!#E#$$%^^*)_)*(^#$!#$#$^&&*(**%^#$#$%#$%$%^%&*_($#$*_$

I zipped up my backpack and pulled one of my bungee cords to hold the sleeping bag on top.

"Are you ready, Rose?" Diana questioned as she pulled her sun hat over her pulled up blonde hair.

"Just about..." my shorts bunched up as I sat and fidgeted and I pulled them down, "I just have to pack a can opener."

"I'll go get it" she hopped off the bed and opened the door to the hallway. There were the sounds of her trying to be quiet, but almost failing. Then it was silence when she closed the door behind her.

I stared at myself in the mirror. It was a vanity, but now I wore minimal makeup; just enough to make me look pretty. My brown hair was pulled up into a bun, and I had a sun hat that made it look short. I wore a white tank top, with khaki shorts. I wore sport shoes, because I was going to do a lot of sporting.

I was going hiking in Suba Forest. There were _enormous_ hills, but not quite mountains. We would camp out for three nights and four days. I was going only with Diana, for she was my only friend that had a true love for nature. We were going to rough it, and we would love it.

She soon came back into the room and smiled, the small can opener in hand. The door closed as she picked up her large backpack.

"Do you want to head out now," she handed me the can opener that I stuffed in it's designated pocket, "or later?"

It was four thirty in the morning, and the sky was still dark. The sun was beginning to peek through the dark. Diana and I wanted to be at the top of Neptune, one of the tallest hills in the forest, to see the sunrise.

"Probably now... if we want to catch the sunrise" I hauled the large backpack over my shoulder and stood up.

"I really do hate being up this early" we clomped down the stairs as quietly as we could, but with all the excess weight it was challenging. My mother was at work, for she was a baker at the local bakery. She needed to prepare things and bake the samples and such.

"Me too," I responded to her complaint. "It seems like we are the only ones in the world right now... everybody else is sleeping."

"I know, it feels like... we're deserted," she opened the door and allowed me to step through first.

"We are going to be alone for four days. Get used to the feeling of bugs, sweat, and the sweet film of dirt!" I had to step cautiously, for in the dark, the little step from the front porch to the main crosswalk was hard to see.

"Oh yeah!" she sounded excited, but was quiet because everyone else in the world was still snoozing. Blissfully unaware of the two teenage girls about to go away for four days.

We were getting to the main entry to the forest by bike. We would ride around with our bikes in the forest, too.

My mother was _very _overwhelmed when she said her goodbyes. Oh my gosh, I've never seen anyone cry over me for four days so much! I guess maternal instinct kicks in when she doesn't know where I will be. I would miss her, but I was eighteen. I was living there because I was evicted from my apartment because I couldn't pay the bills. I couldn't pay the bills because I was fired from my job. I was fired because I am going to college, and couldn't find the time to put in many hours at work. So yes, money is at a stand-still, but I usually live in my dormitory. It was summertime, and I loved it.

We rode off, the only sound being the tires of our bikes running over the little pebbles and other debris of the rocky road.

"Hey, Rose..." Diana sped up to keep up with my pace, "you do know where this forest is, yes?"

"Yes... why?" I was getting a little out of breath, considering the extra twenty pounds on my back.

"It's... right behind that... well where... um..."

"Yeah, where Jim was killed. So?"

"I figured that maybe you would be a little..."

"What?"

"You know... uncomfortable. Being near that house..."

"Why? Because that wicked man sliced right through him?"

"I... I would be..."

"Well, I'm over it. If that scissor-handed freak wants to go around killing peoples' brothers, than who am I to stop him?"

"He's dead now... so he can't hurt any-"

"Good. He should be burning in hell for what he did. How many other people has that cold-hearted experiment killed? He _does_ have blades for hands. What would you do if you had murder weapons for fingers?"

"I really don't-"

"Kill people. He is a creation from that creepy old scientist. He is demented and cruel. What a loser... he must've been happy to die."

She merely blinked. She didn't know what to say, for if she said anything, it would only make things worse. The Jim and Scissorhands situation was like quicksand with me; the more you move, the more you get sucked in. The more you get sucked in, the more you die a slow, painful death.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I was just making sure you were okay" she was nervous and sighed.

"It's okay... it was actually nice of you. Thanks..." we stopped at the foot of the forest.

She smiled and slid off the bike seat. I did the same.

The hills were so steep, it was not even sensible to ride up them when we were so tired. We would waste our energy.

We grabbed our bikes by the handlebars and began to pull them along with us as we walked through the rough terrain of the forest. We dodged three hundred year old trees. We rode over ancient rocks and dirt and stepped on countless fallen, decaying leaves. They were from the many autumns of the seasons.

I could see the hill in the distance. My back and shoulders were getting wearisome, but only because of the way I had to hold the bike. My feet were still energetic and felt good, for my shoes were made for this. It was a little cooler outside, but it was because the sun wasn't up yet.

The sun!

I could see it in the distance, it's precious light starting to turn the sky red, orange and pink. Stars were still visible, but now they started to dissipate. It was such a beautiful sight when the sun came up. The only reason we wanted to see it was because of it's remarkable, stunning beauty. We could do it, so why not?

We paused at the foot of the hill. The sky was becoming brighter, so we needed to get on top quick.

"Do you want to ride up?" she suggested.

I thought about that. "No... we don't have enough momentum to get up the hill. Let's just leave the bikes here, and run up the side."

` "What if someone steals the bikes?" she inquired.

"No one is around _to _steal them. C'mon, we'll be right back down."

She was protective of her bike because it was expensive and new. Mountain bikes are expensive, especially for someone in college. The money to pay for mine was taken from my birthday money. Every year, my relatives sent me twenty or thirty dollars. I have ten relatives that usually send me money, so ten times thirty is three hundred dollars. I have been getting money since I was ten. Seven times three hundred is twenty one thousand dollars. I haven't spent it, but kept it in a bank account. The bike cost one thousand five hundred dollars because it was a really nice bike. I didn't want to go to the high end, because why would I need it? I biked through rough terrain, but not three thousand dollars worth of rocks and dirt.

My calves began to hurt as I threw myself up the enormous hill. This hill reminded me of the sand dunes in Silver Lake, Michigan. I climbed those, barefooted in intense heat. It was so fun rolling down, though.

This was easier to climb, though, because sand was hard to grip. Dirt and rocks helped for ledges as I sped up past Diana.

Time was running out. We needed to see that sunrise! If we missed it, Diana and I would be terribly disappointed. Th sky brightened as I heard more birds chirp, already awakened from the days new dawn. The shoes helped grab onto the steep hill and pull me up, but it didn't seem fast enough. I was beginning to doubt that we would make it in time.

Diana sped past me, now on all fours. This was a good idea, because both her and I had on biking gloves. Our hands would not get so dirty, and we could always wash the gloves. I began to run as if I was a wolf, using my hands and legs in sync to make it up the mountain.

The backpack was really slowing me down, but I couldn't take it off now. We were so close to the top! My breath was becoming harder to find. I was able to climb something like this, but not at this speed without a bike.

Diana fell behind once more and I fought for those last few steps...

I was getting on my feet for the final landing...

Oh no! I slipped down on a little mud! Oh well... back up now..

Almost there...

Watch out for that mud...

And...

YES! I was there!

I flopped on the ground as Diana followed. I sat, staring at the sky, heaving air into my lungs and allowing my anxious muscles to rest. I threw my backpack from my back and allowed it to rest on a large rock. Diana sat Indian style on the grassy ground and I managed to follow her stance.

She also seemed tired, but pointed at the sky.

The sun began to poke through the brightly dark sky, creating an alien sphere of light. The sky was ridden with birds, all looking for worms to feed their new babies. There were few clouds as the sky turned from orange, pink, dark blue and black, to a beautiful light blue.

"Gosh, we made it in the nick of time!" Diana awed at the wonderful scene that just played before our eyes.

I was gaining my breath and, still staring at the rising ball of light, reached for my water bottle. I took a swig and offered Diana the bottle. She didn't accept, but smiled in thanks.

The grass and weeds on the ground tickled my legs and it felt wonderful. The smell in the air smelled crisp and clean The trees, the flowers, and the grass all had the smell of undisturbed, wonderful, crisp, nature. It was almost the smell after it rained, but all the time, even if it didn't rain.

The sun was now fully up, and it would begin to get hotter and hotter. It was supposed to be a high temperature of ninety today. We needed to set up camp before it became too incredibly hot to work at a normal pace.

We had plenty of water, food, and other supplies. As we set off down the hill, because we saw what we wanted to see, we saw that our bikes were still in tact, still in the place where we left them.

We hopped on and set off towards our normal camp ground. This was not a designated area for camping. This was completely uncivilized, left alone, nature. That was how camping should be. Just a tent, a fire and some blankets. Campers and cars and such didn't make it camping. It made it a normal day, only surrounded by tress.

The place that we headed off to was an odd occurrence in the forest. It was a clearance, with only green grass and a few weeds and flowers in a large, cleared, circular or ovular, peaceful clearing. It was perfect for camping because it was large enough to fit a tent, a nice fireplace far enough away from the trees, and plenty of space for anything else.

We are sharing a tent, but Diana brought hers just in case we separated somehow or mine broke. The terrain was softer because it rained not too long ago. It wasn't soaking wet; not even remotely wet. Just a little soft. Hopefully our camp site was okay. I didn't want to sleep on puddles or mud. Of course, there was a sturdy tent floor, but the feeling wasn't exactly comfortable.

We had more energy, so we decided to take a shortcut. We would ride over the hill, instead of around it. We began to peddle and it was invigorating. Some would be wearisome of the burn in your legs and the pain in your back, but I loved it. Going near vertical with extra pounds on her back, racing with someone and speeding up to beat them to the top, is a very satisfying feeling.

Especially when you beat them.

She was beginning to slow down, so I sped ahead of her.

Before we both knew it, I was at the top, and she trailed slowly behind.

"This is going to be a long four days..." she breathed as heavily as I did.

We both loved nature. Let's just say... I was a little more fit than her. I did this almost every day in the summer, and whenever I came home from college I would spend at least a day out here. I was able to do this all day long, but she didn't have the stamina to stay with me. I didn't mind, because even if she is with me for half the day, it was nice to have someone to collect leaves with and birdwatch.

We didn't bike and walk all day. Especially with her, I was able to look around more instead of biking and hiking. I respected her, and I liked that I had at least one friend that liked nature.

We soon regained our stature and stood to see the view. We had parked the bike and sat down, for we were both exasperated.

We saw the tips of trees and the beautiful morning sky. The leaves were green and flourishing and thick. The sky became bluer than when we last stared at it, and a few more white, fluffy clouds moved in.  
And then there was an obstruction. A hideous thing that ruined the view. It was only in the corner of my eye, but it ruined everything. It made everything ugly and horrible.

Just like the man living in it.

It was Scissorhands' house. We saw the roof and the back side of the house. Oh my gosh, that was a huge hole in the roof. You would think that someone would tear down the house because it was so unstable. Maybe Scissorhands wouldn't get out in time and the demolition ball would tear him down with the house. It wasn't too far away, but not too close.

I tried to ignore it. I really did. But when the wind blew the leaves towards the house, I found myself staring at it. The only thing that I could see was the roof and a little of the back end side, nothing below it. I wondered how horrible the lawn looked and how bad the entire house's shape was in.

He couldn't mow the lawn, unless he trimmed so with his fingers. That would take forever. He could make repairs to the house, but it would be painful and he would just scratch up the house. I would laugh and sip some lemonade as I would make him do it.

Then I left my pessimistic thoughts and calmed down. I began to wonder about him. What did he look like? I didn't even know... other than his hands. He obviously wasn't attractive. How could a man that cuts himself constantly and gets no sun be even remotely attractive. What did he wear? What you an I wear? If he's wearing woman's clothing like me, than he has more problems than just his scissor fingers.

I sighed and stared at one of the fluffy clouds in the sky. Diana was to my right and staring at the trees to her right. She didn't see me staring at the house.

"Well," I blinked and turned my view towards Diana who now looked at me, "let's head on."

We hopped on our bikes yet again and trailed onward.

After we went down the hill, I found half of my attention towards the house. My expression was not tired, but serious. My head turned towards it, I didn't see in front of me, but knew this trail like the back of my hand. Diana was in front of me and we weren't racing.

We soon reached the camp site and put up camp. We made a ring of rocks found around for fires and set up the tent. We filled the tent with our sleeping bags and water. We also had a corner for our food, and we realized that there was enough to comfortably sleep in. We unpacked blankets, tinder, and everything else that we used. We were going to be gone for so long, it was required to have this much gear. We were roughing it, but had four days worth of food. We could always find water, so we brought less.

There was one weapon that was my lucky charm. It was my gold-plated survival knife. It was my fathers and he left it with me when he died of cancer. It had a golden tint to the blade, yet the handle was wrapped with silver wrap for grip. The shiny dagger was lucky because it was my father's, and it helped me stay alive. Once, when I was out camping, a raccoon came and began to ravage the last of my food. I was staying out for one more day and I needed the food. So, I took out the knife, and stabbed the raccoon from behind. It came after me, and I swiped the knife along it's neck. It never bit or scratched me, but only died. If it scratched me, I could have gotten rabies and gotten sick. That knife was the only thing that saved me.

We searched around the circle for peculiar things. It seemed that blackberries were in bloom for we found a flourishing bush. There were weeds and things, and we left them alone. Flowers of yellow, red, and other beautiful colors surrounded the rim and brightened the green grass.

"What do you want to do now?" she sat on a tuft of grass and sighed.

"Do you just want to relax for a while? We have hiked and rode for a while. I'm tired" I plopped down next to her, staring at a spot covered with yellow flowers.

"That sounds nice."

The sound of our breathing was evened with the rushing of the river close by, and the wind that rustled the leaves on the trees. It was one of the most wonderful sounds, the rushing river. The bubbling and swooshing of the water and the splash it makes when it hits the bordering rocks. The wind was soothing as I went into the tent and returned with my water bottle.

It was now about two o'clock. The cicadas hummed and screeched while they hid in the trees and bushes.

It was a wonderful day of hiking here. Now I needed to plan what do for four days.

I went back into the tent and grabbed a notepad and a pen.

I returned, Diana's gaze following me.

"Do you want to go fishing today or tomorrow?" I inquired as I sat next to her.

"Today sounds nice. Something to relax us after so much activity."

And we planned everything that we wanted to do. It ended up looking like this:

Day One: Get there and go fishing. Around sundown, go lightning bug catching.

Day Two: Hike Lakewood Hill. Get to bed early for tomorrow's activity.

Day Three: Go bird watching in the morning. In the afternoon, bike around the forest.

Day four: Hike or ride Acer Hill, then get back and look for assorted bugs and flies.

Day Five: Return home.

We liked to collect leaves, rocks, and bugs. Diana had an entire bug collection, but she needed to find a Xyrox Fly. They were around here, but blended with everything else.

After relaxing for a little while, enjoying the calming sights, we headed into the tent to get our fishing gear. We carried our bait and tackle boxes with one hand, and our fishing poles with the other.

We reached the river and set up our things. I loved fishing. It was relaxing yet rewarding.

I was the first to cast a line. Diana baited her fishing pole and then threw her line out, following my actions.

Although I had many bites and caught many fish, my mind was never really on the fishing. It was drawn to Scissorhands. All of the thoughts that I thought of him... amazed me. I was not being mean or assertive. I was actually calmed down, and I thought rational things. Maybe it was the nature surrounded me, or the sounds of the peaceful forest that calmed me.

And all I knew right now, was that I was not angry about Scissorhands' deeds to my brother. I was not angry about his entire existence.

I was irrevocably curious.

What if... no- that would be horrible. If I did that, the consequences would be catastrophic. But I wanted to know- no. You will be in peace with the things that people tell you. Who he was, was a heartless monster. Nothing else. But what if- no! He had murder in his soul, and it was taking over.

Oh, what do I do? Curiosity abound... or staying back? In the suicide lane, or the safe path?


	2. Rain is Moisture

Soon nightfall came. We lied in our tent, a candle lighting the room. I was inside my sleeping bag, while Diana was outside of hers, reading a book.

It was warm outside, but it cooled off since the sun went down.

"Want to tell ghost stories?" she looked up from her book.

I smiled. This was one of the pleasures of camping... being able to do everything spontaneously.

"That sounds fun!" I sat up and shuffled out of my sleeping bag. I was getting too warm anyway...

We wore our sleeping pajamas. I wore dark green, baggy pants and a white T-shirt while Diana wore blue and pink striped shorts and a pink tank-top.

We scooted closer to each other. "Do you want to go first?" I asked Diana.

"Sure, I got a great one!" she whisper-spoke.

And she began in an eerie tone. "There once was a girl named... Gracie."

I started listening to her, then my attention was a little less turned towards her, and eventually I didn't hear anything except my own thoughts. I was never really scared of ghost stories, so while I thought my own thoughts, I nodded. Just in case she knew I wasn't listening.

You all know what I was thinking of.

Scissorhands. Did he even have a first name? I didn't know... everyone always called him 'scissorhands'.

What did he even look like? All I knew was that he had scissors for hands. I always thought he wore baggy, black clothes. And now that I think about him, I always thought his hair was long and slicked back.

I already knew his personality. He was mean. And cruel. He never thought of any consequences before he did anything. I knew this... just by what he did to Jim.

She finished her story. I had acted scared at the times when her voice deepened so she would think I was listening.

"Scary one, huh?" she seemed confident about her story.

"Yeah..." my voice sounded distant as I still thought about Scissorhands.

"You didn't listen to my story did you..." she now just smiled, that confident depleting.

"Of course I did!" I wonder how she knew...

"Okay," she sat from Indian style to her legs folded under her, "what was your favorite part?"

I blinked and scoffed. "The one part... where you said her name..." I avoided her gaze.

"Oh yeah. That was exciting..." she giggled a little.

"I'm sorry, Diana. Your story was excellent, I'm sure... but my mind is very... tired..." I lied down on my pillow as I forced my voice to crack.

"You mean focused on Scissorhands?" she lied down, copying my movements, except on her sleeping bag.

I looked at her... my eyebrows bending together. "How did you know?"

"Your mind has been distant ever since we passed his mansion. I figured you were either sad or angry about him. I sort of figured that you wouldn't listen to my story, but I told it anyway." Her mouth twisted into a smile.

"I'm not angry or sad..." I looked at the candle, "I feel... curious."

She raised her eyebrows. "I think college has made you soft..."

"I don't know why... but I just want to go inside the house. See... him."

"I've always wanted to go in there. But I was always too afraid to go inside."

"I think I'm going in..." I sat up, but still looked at her.

She giggled.

"No," I raised my eyebrows, "I'm serious."

She sat up and her smile depleted. "You can't be. If you go in there, I don't know... if you'll ever come out."

"I know. I think I'll hang back... I should enjoy the camping trip. I'll forget about him tomorrow..." I was half lying. This entire trip, my mind would be on him.

"Okay... just don't do anything stupid, alright?" she lied back down, "I'm tired... what time is it?"

I checked my watch. "Ten thirty. If we want to go bird watching, we should head to bed early. We should have been in bed an hour ago... but oh well. Better late than never." I lied down and pulled the covers of the sleeping bag over me.

"Agreed..." she yawned and turned her back to me so she lied on her side.

"Goodnight" I said quietly.

" G'night" she responded.

All was quiet except the chirps of the crickets. The ground was uncomfortable, but I would live. It was something to sacrifice for the beauty of nature.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

I lay there, eyes closed, for fifteen minutes. I had heard Diana's soft snoring and was jealous.

I couldn't sleep because of Scissorhands. As it was all day, my mind was centered on him.

And I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to go up there. I had been wanting to go up there since I saw the house.

I wanted to see him so bad. To go up to the house and... yell at him. Scold him and maybe even... kill him. There was always anger behind my thoughts of him... even if I was curious.

My eyes opened. I smiled and turned towards Diana. "Diana... if you can hear me, say something."

Snoring in response.

I shuffled out of the sleeping bag quietly. My eyes stayed on her as I stood up, my head hitting the top of the tent.

I carefully stepped over her to get the my bag. I slowly, and seemingly quietly, unzipped the duffel bag. Out of it, I searched for the outfit I wore today, the khaki shorts and blue tank-top.

I found it and scuffled out of my night clothes. I was wearing only my undergarments and slipped into the khaki shorts. Then my tank-top.

I slipped on my socks and boots.

I stopped moving when I heard Diana move in her sleep. "R...Rose?" she tiredly said and sighed. She sat up, supporting herself on her elbows.

"Hey, I was just getting up to go to the bathroom... sorry I woke you..." I was quiet and didn't move. Hopefully she didn't see what I was wearing. There was no light, for we had burned out the candle.

She sighed, grumbled, and lied back down. I unzipped the tent, thinking that if she heard me she would think that I was just using the... tree.

I waited outside the tent and waited until I heard her snoring again.

Then I flipped on the flashlight I brought with and moved the beam around the trees.

I focused on where we came from and stepped towards it.

I listened to the night sounds as I walked towards the hill that led to his mansion.

I was never afraid of the dark. I was fascinated by it, instead. How the creatures of the night wandered in the lingering shadows, ready to attack at any moment; oh, it sent shivers down my spine! Shivers of excitement and not fear like most would have.

I was soon at the foot of the hill and looked up at the mansion on top of it, thinking of who was inside. This was going to be a long hike, but I was ready for it. I wanted to see what a shack the mansion really was, for it had not been cared for in years. I wanted to see... him.

I didn't even know for sure if it _was _a he. I just assumed that it was a boy because I knew the truth.

I _knew _that he killed Jim over a girl. Everyone told me that he killed him because he happened to wander up into the mansion.

I _knew _that Scissorhands was not dead. I _knew _that he pushed him out of that window. I _knew _that the roof did not cave in on him and kill him.

How did I know this?

_Kim._

Kim has been my friend for a long, long time. Ever since fifth grade, actually. She confided in me, to never tell anyone, what really happened. She didn't tell me the entire story. Only that it was over a girl (her?) and Edward wasn't dead.

Diana knew that he wasn't dead too. She was a science geek. She was there with me after the mob of women left. She said that how he landed and how his body was placed, he had to be pushed. She knew it was intentional, and he was alive.

But he could be dead soon if he wasn't careful with me.

I climbed the hill at a high speed. I would ward off all fatigue. I didn't care anymore, I just wanted to get up there.

My lucky golden survival knife was pinching into my thigh. I adjusted it and continued to hike up the hill.

I heard a wolf, dog, or coyote howl and it sent a (bad) shiver down my spine. What if there was some animal up here? A hungry animal desperate for food... and I would kill it. Nothing was going to touch me.

Dodging trees and stepping over rocks, the house's black back was coming into view. I had been walking for at least a half hour, for it was a very, very large hill.

I touched the gray and black shingles of the mansion. I leaned against it, my arm holding my weight. I was breathing heavily and my legs were sore. But it was all worth it for seeing him.

_It._

I regained my stature and headed towards the front of the house. There was no door, only small windows, in the back of the house where I was. I tried to look inside from a window, but it was covered so darkly in grime and dust, that I couldn't see anything clearly. Plus, they had _very _large spiders in the windowsill, and I wasn't putting my face near a hungry spider.

I wasn't afraid of spiders, I just don't like them much when they are wild. I _did _have a pet tarantula, after all.

The grass was yellow and dry with death. The trees were black and frail, with no leaves, only the withering branches. It was a sad sight to see dead flowers and so many weeds.

As I walked towards the front of the house, the grass... seemed to get greener. Richer.

The trees were, unbelievably, coming to life.

But it was probably all in my imagination... I was so used to Suburban life that it tainted my mind.

I was on the side of the house, and there was a black iron fence holding me from the front. I couldn't see anything on the other side, for the fence was covered with vines and weeds.

How would I get across this fence? I could always jump it... but there were pointy triangles on top. I could walk around to the other side of the house, but I might be in the same trouble that I am in now.

I would have to hop it. There was no gate in sight, and I couldn't waste time looking for a gate on the other side of the house. It was already eleven at night.

I situated my hand on the top of the fence in between two triangles. I hopped up, my leg landing on one of the metal bars making the fence. I used all my power to lift my body higher with the leg on the bar, and my arm wrapped around the fence. I used the leg that was on the bar to also wrap around the fence, and used my free leg to get on a metal bar. I thrust myself with the leg on the bar, and fell onto the other side of the fence.

I fell on my knees, then regained my balance a moment later. Brushing debris off of my legs, I stepped slowly in front of me. I was looking down at my knees, which were now green with grass stains. Stupid grass...

Then I looked up.

Oh. My. Gosh!

Was I... by the same house?

Nothing was dead like it was in the back.. In fact... it was quite the opposite.

There were flowers of every color... all rimmed with mulch and a stone border. The grass was green and lush. There was a gray stone path that was to my right, leading to the middle of the yard.

But the grass and the flowers were not the vocal point of the yard. There were bushes trimmed into shapes and characters. There was a sea monster, coming in and out of the green grass. A ballerina. A fish. A dog and cat. Several dolphins, hopping in and out of the ground which resembled the water. It was all illuminated by little lights placed everywhere.

It was a remarkable sight... yet an odd one. Where did all of the magnificent sculptures come from?

The path led to a circle path around another rock border. Inside the border... was a _hand?_ It was a bush... trimmed into a hand. What was the point of-

Oh.

I giggled darkly at my own stupidity. I was standing here wondering where the sculptures came from, when a man with scissors for hands lived in the house. Of course he had carved them... what else did he have to do with his time? But where did he get so good at it? These were... very creative. How did a murderer get so many ideas?

The house itself was... Gothic art. A castle at the least. With it's dark bricks and shingles and tall towers, it looked as if an evil king lived there.

There was an evil living there... but certainly not a king. Maybe the king _of _evil, but he wasn't even good enough to be called that.

If it even _was _a he.

I followed the path and walked in the circle formation. From the circle were four paths. One led from where I was, two led to different places in the garden, and the last led to a magnificent door. The door to the castle... to Scissorhands.

On the other side the garden, there were more flowers and more sculptures. I noticed the biggest one on the other side, a girl dancing. Her arms were spread, and her dress twirled.

I sighed and stepped towards the door.

The only sounds were my footsteps on the stone path and a few crickets chirping. It wasn't a long path, but it seemed a mile long.

Okay, okay. I'll admit it. I was a _little _afraid of going inside the house. I guess Diana's words were getting to me. _"You can't go in there... because I don't know if you'll ever come out again."_

I was soon in front of the double doors. It was far larger than me and quite a few feet longer than me. There was a large metal ring-knocker hanging from the wooden door to my right. It seemed gray with dismay and appeared unused for years. But he had used it... how would he get outside?

I gulped and sighed before placing my hand on an obnoxiously-sized iron doorknob. I pushed down and the knob did not move. I jiggled it a bit and it budged a little. I put all of my weight into both pushing it down and forward, and the door cracked open. I almost fell over from the sudden relief of weight.

There was no light inside. A beam of the light from the garden shone through the door's opening. I opened the door wider and the beam became greater. It squeaked and sounded rusty.

I slid inside, leaving the door open so I wouldn't be in the dark.

All that was in the room, that I could see, was a staircase. At the base of the staircase was an eerie sculpture of a... ghost? It has long arms extending outward with long trails of concrete as it's fingers. It looked like a blob. Wow, a creative ghost-blob.

I opened the door wider, and saw many more shadows coming from each side of the room. I opened the door as wide as it could be opened.

Machines. Inventions of sorts. Lots of them. Robots. Metal. Random pipes and plastic tubes. Rubber figures.

What was this place? How could Scissorhands make all of these? What did they do?

I carefully sauntered over to a particularly long assembly-line like machine. It had a large metal bowl on a robotic arm balancing it on it's side. As I followed the assembly line, there was a robot with... mixers as hands? I raised my eyebrow and looked at the robots with... cookie cutter feet? Everything led to a big metal box, then after that a basket.

I wondered what this thing made or did. I had an idea of what it did, but what was the point of making something do that?

I touched the assembly line and poked one of the hanging metal legs. It squeaked and creaked as it swung back and fourth.

As it moved, a small illumination forced my eye to flick towards it. A little red light coming from the big metal box of the machine. I walked towards it and examined it further.

It was a button of some sort. What did it do?

I tediously moved my index finger towards it. Do I push it? Would it be a 'mansion self-destruct' button?

Ah, what the heck?

I confidently slammed my finger against the red button.

There was a loud grinding that made me jump. In all of this silence, any noise would make me jump. It sounded rusty and unused, like the door.

Then the robot's eyes lit up. They were green and bright.

A cloud of white powder falling from a box above me landed in the bowl below it. It spread around the room and made me sneeze. Flour?

Sweeping arms flew above my head, making me duck so it didn't hit me. The bowl was below them, for it had moved along the conveyor belt. The two arms had a cup on each end, holding a little white oval. A small hammer slammed against the oval, and it cracked into the bowl. That couldn't possibly be an egg...

The bowl moved along the line and a robot hung down into the bowl. It had spinning mixers as hands and it mixed the flour and egg together.

A swinging arm hit the bowl and forced the dough to fall onto rollers that flattened it. The cookie-cutter legs cut it into shapes of horses, hearts and flowers.

The newly formed cookies disappeared into the metal box. It had heated up and turned red inside, so I assumed it was an oven.

The cooked cookies feel into a basket, and the process started over again.

I was mystified and scared at the same time. I rushed towards the button and pushed it again repetitively.

Stop! Stop making cookies!

Eventually after the last push... it stopped.

I sighed in relief. I didn't want to dawdle around with these weird machines... stupid things they were. I saw many more... but didn't know (or want to) know what they did.

I found myself holding a horse-shaped cookie. I would have tasted it if I knew how old that egg and flour were. And there had to be sugar somewhere in that mix or this cookie would taste horrible.

I put it down in the basket and was in silence once more. It was an odd feeling... being afraid of a dark, near-empty room. I was not used to it... I was usually never afraid.

Maybe my nerves were on end because I knew that there was a murderer somewhere in this giant house. Almost like a horror movie. A teenage girl with only a knife to protect herself in a house with a murderer hiding, waiting.

He had to know I was here. The door was loud, and the cookie machine was obnoxiously noisy.

I checked my watch. It was eleven.

Then a newer, more important thought kicked in; where was Scissorhands?

I searched the near-empty room and saw no one. I doubt he would be down here, for it was night time. He was probably be sleeping. Now, where was his sleeping quarters?

Wait, what was that? I stopped moving and listened.

_S...n...ip. Sn...i...p..._

I gripped my knife and searched motionlessly.

_Snip... S...n...i...p..._

Whoa! A shadow... was that? It had to be! Once my eyes flicked towards it, it disappeared.

Upstairs. The shadow was upstairs. I growled. "Scissors!" I yelled and yanked my knife out of it's holder. My voice echoed, just like the snips.

I ran up the uneven dusty stairs. This was one long staircase... how did he bear it every day?

I was at a long base in the stairs before another, shorter staircase began. It was only five or six steps. After that staircase, was a door, covered with cobwebs and dust. Everything was so... gray. Dull. And definitely dusty.

I was nearly out of breath when I searched the little base. "Scissors! Come out now..." I soon realized that no one was here, for I would have seen a guy with scissors for hands in such a small space.

I stomped up the smaller staircase.

The door was in front of me and I threw my hand on the handle. It almost mimicked the one on the front door, but it was smaller.

I radically fought with the doorknob to push it open. It was not a pull door, I knew that because of how the hinges were placed.

It... wouldn't... MOVE!

I growled and pushed and pulled down. I sighed angrily and put my hand at my side. What could I do?

I smiled at my idea. I stepped back a few steps, almost falling onto the stair. I took a few quick steps and...

BAM!

I kicked the door and threw my fist down on the handle at the same time. It burst open and I put my leg down.

I rested for a second. The amount of effort I put into the kick and the pushing before that was great. I was worn out...

Then I came to my senses.

_No resting!_

I ran into the room. My knife was in hand and I stared into the sky.

Wait, the sky?

Oh... this was the giant hole that I saw in the roof. So I was in the back of the house, top floor.

Hey... there was the big dipper constellation... I pointed towards it and traced the pan in the sky. It's amazing how pictures were made from stars...

No!

I turned around and threw my knife in front of me. I held it with two hands. _Where was he? _It was dark and only the moonlight could have shown me the way. Except it was a cloudy night and there was no light. I stared out of the doorway that I had left open, then my eyes trailed all around.

"Scissors! Show yourself! I know you're in here!" I shouted. It echoed slightly, but because of the gaping hole letting the sound escape.

I stood in silence. My knees were shaking slightly from the eerie feeling. Like... I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know who was around to hurt me or to see me.

_Snip! Snipsnip...._

_"SCISSORS! _I'm going to say this on more time... come out. I will put down the knife, if you come here" I thought for a minute, "with your hands behind your back."

Silence.

I raised my eyebrows. Don't be difficult... I thought, you're only making it harder for yourself...

"Where do I go?" a voice came from the dark.  
I looked around and tried to find him. "In front of me."

I only saw darkness.

"Put down the knife first..." his soft, almost whisper voice was from behind me.

I swung my body and shrieked. "I said, in front of me!" I still saw nothing, but he sounded so close!

"If you don't put the knife down... then I can't. I'll stab myself..." his voice was shaky and quiet. Not like I would have imagined it.

"You have a point..." I gulped and put the knife down my my thighs. I still held it with two hands.

I stared in front of me, still turned from my original position. "Well... show yourself!"

"You said to go in front of you when you were turned the other way..." it was behind me again. I turned slowly... not sure what I would see...

AHHHHH! I jumped back and heard the knife clatter onto the floor. He also jumped back, eyes wide. The dim light from the door reflected on his scissors... making them shine. I regained my composure and picked up the knife by the blade, almost cutting myself, but flipped the holder into my hand and gripped it.

I sat and stared at him. I raised the knife once more, but with one hand. He stared at the golden blade and backed up, still keeping his hands behind his back.

"Stop moving!" I shouted.

He looked at me and obeyed.

"Sit down" I was a little calmer as I bored my eyes into his.

He blinked and sat Indian style on the floor below me. He looked up at me with big eyes.

I dropped the knife into his lap. His eyes became wider and he scrambled his legs to try to get it off. It didn't stab him, only lay flat. The soft squeak of his leather suit was the only sound.

I smiled at his struggle. This was an interesting development! He was _nothing _like I had imagined him. His hair was awry, frizzy and black. It looked as if it hadn't been brushed or styled in years. His face was paler than I had anticipated, whiter than a sheep. Large black eyes. His attire was obviously nothing that I could have thought of. A one piece black leather suit. Combat-looking boots. It was covered with buckles and belts, clips and clamps. All black and shiny silver.

He consisted of three colors. White, black and silver.

Even though he was so different than expected, it was a definite 'yes' that he was Scissorhands. Why? Because he simply had scissors for hands.

But what was so odd... was how he acted. You would think that _he _would be the one, holding his blades to my throat. That he would not be afraid of a girl much younger than him, with only a small knife to protect herself. His eyes... were so... soft? They were large and dark, but not cold. Warm. Sweet, maybe? Why?

The knife dropped to the floor and he frantically scooted away from it, his large blade-hands catching on the wooden, plywood gray floor. He almost fell over onto his back, but pulled his blades out, still keeping them behind his back. He still stared at the small blade fearfully as I stood above him.

Well, I guess I would use his silly fear of my dagger to my advantage. I reached down and grabbed the knife slowly and he cringed. I slowly pulled the knife up to my abdomen and he took a sharp, scared breath.

He looked down at his feet. His eyes were still wide with fear and his nonexistent (he had none?) were pulled together.

He looked like a dog with his tail between his legs.

I chuckled darkly. I slowly tucked the tip of my golden blade under his lowered chin. His mouth became limp as I slowly raised his chin so I could see his face.

He still looked down at his (or my) feet, avoiding my burning gaze.

"Look at me" my voice was fierce , yet soft. I didn't want to scare him off right away. And he was very skiddish.

His eyes flicked up to mine. I scowled and bent down close to his trembling face. "_Stay _looking at me."

His face did not move, but his fearful eyes raised up to me. I stared at his face and rolled my eyes were I saw his lip quiver. He had odd shaped lips, like they were only half-full. Not thin, just... thin in some places.

"You have huge, razor sharp scissors for hands," I grinned and scowled at the same time, "and you're afraid of a little survival knife? You're pathetic."

I pushed his neck with the knife, but I put my other hand on his chest and pushed him down. He fell onto his wrists bent to be behind his back comfortably.

I stood erect once more from bending down to meet him. He gazed, surprisingly, up at me. He looked so helpless and innocent... how adorable.

I wanted to kick his teeth in.

I wish he would drop the act. He had no idea who I was, and what I knew.

"Yeah, the roof caved in on you..." I scoffed and raised my eyebrow at him.

He blinked twice.

I reached my hand down towards his face gently. My knife was in the other hand, no nails pointed on the one approaching him. I wanted to feel his skin... it looked so... rubbery.

As my hand reached towards him, his eyes became wide and switched to my hand. He sucked in his lower lip and cowered away from my hand. He was afraid... of my hand. Wow... pathetic excuse for the human race.

I rolled my eyes, scoffed and raised my hand over to his hair. I gripped a handful of his matted hair and he cringed. "Chill out. As long as you do not get on a nerve or try to kill me, you're fine" I was quiet, yet fierce.

"But... I'm not cold" he looked up at me, his voice shaky, yet masculine.

I shook my head and squinted my eyes at him. "What?" I spat.

"How can I _chill _if I am not cold?" his shoulders scrunched up as if I was going to hurt him. All I was doing was pulling a little bit of his hair. How could he feel it under all of those knots and such? Baby... it didn't even hurt _me _when someone tugged on my hair.

I let go of his hair and he shook his head like a dog. I scrunched my face at him. "What are you _doing?_"

"You hurt my head..." his voice was bouncing with the vigorous movement.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed another handful of his hair to stop him from shaking. He inhaled a sharp breath.

"Stop that" I spat at him and he blinked in response.

He obeyed.

I released his hair and grabbed his shoulder instead. He was so frail... so fragile and petite.

Wimpy.

"You don't move..." I gripped the knife and held it towards him. Right between the eyes... place the tip on the rubber-like skin. He stared up at me an whimpered slightly. I cocked my head and stared at a glare on the knife.

I was going to finish him. All off. Gone. Nada. I would push _him_ out the window, and laugh as he fell to the ground. This... scared little thing was ruining all of our lives. It would certainly be a pleasure to be rid of him.

Wait... my eyes flicked towards the door. What if Diana woke up to see that I was gone? She would know where I was.

I would have to close the door, to avoid anyone seeing me.

"Stay seated..." I moved the sharp point away from him, but still kept it on hand. I began to walk towards the door, "Don't move."

He took in a sharp breath and stood in a hurry as I stomped to the door.

"No... wait!" his voice was raised slightly and I turned towards him.

"I said stay seated!" I shouted at him.

I knocked the door closed with a loud bang. It squeaked and gridded.

He ran past me, his hands stretched out.

"Hey! Put those down..." I yelled and stepped back, eyes wide.

He landed into the now closed door. His fingers ground into the decaying wood.

I stood behind him with one hand on my hip.

"Well, what the hell is wrong with you?!" his head turned towards me who sternly scolded him.

His entire body turned towards me. "I'm sorry..."

I raised my eyebrows and nodded. I snapped my fingers and he slowly approached me.

I was so close to him, I felt his quivering breath on my face.

"Sit..." I wiggled the knife in my hand.

He did.

"Why did you disobey me? I was sure that you understood that I am bigger than you..." I kneeled down to him and stared into his sad eyes.

"Why?" he smiled a little, a twitch of his invisible eyebrow.

I scowled and raised the knife towards him. He didn't act as afraid, but his eyes flicked towards it, then back up to my face.

I put my angry face close to his. "Because I don't kill innocent people... scum." I squinted into his widening eyes.

I raised back up and stood. I stared down at him.

"You... you know about-"

"About Jim. Yes I do. And I know why. And I know you're not dead, obviously. I know about your little crush on his girlfriend. Do you know why?" I growled and was tempted to just stab him repeatedly.

"Because you're his sister" he tilted his head and stared at me.

I raised my eyebrows and blinked. "How did you know that?"

"Your eyes. They are the same as his" he was quiet as his gaze softened. He seemed to study me... as if I was a book.

I didn't glare. I didn't give him a dirty look. I only... gazed. Why was he looking at me like that? Those eyes.... so big and dark. Yet warm... not cold. Sweet... not bitter.

"You bastard..." I squinted once more.

He glanced down.

"I won't kill you... because I feel..." I dropped the knife with a clank, "I'm not sure."

That wasn't a lie. Where had all of my anger gone?

"You were going to kill me?" he suddenly appeared frantic again.

I rolled my eyes. "I still might, if you don't do as I say."

He nodded.

"Why do you even want to live? You have nothing... just this big house... and lots of cookies" I flashed back to the cookie machine.

He twitched a smile. "They are good, aren't they? I assume you tried one..."

"I didn't try- wait... how did you know I turned it on?" I relaxed as he changed the subject. Why not? He had nothing else to do.

He merely smiled. "Very loud machine. The main door woke me up... so I knew you were here for a while."

I sighed. "I figured as such. Don't you ever take care of anything other than that stupid garden of yours?"

"I can't even care for my garden anymore..." he was solemn once more.

"Why not?" did he break his scissors? I almost smiled at the thought of someone smoldering them off or something like that.

"Can I get up for a moment to show you?" he was still quiet. I could barely hear him.

I could tell he wasn't a big talker.

"Fine... just don't touch me..." I watched him get up and approach the huge, buckled door.

He was silent for moment as he dragged his metal finger against the wood. "It rains. Rain is moisture."

I nodded as he stared at the door.

"Wood... absorbs moisture. Wet wood... warps. At least, that is what father told me..." he turned his head towards me, but his eyes were soft.

I raised my eyebrow. What was he- oh. Oh... no! Warped doors... ooohhhh nnnooo. My eyes widened and felt a wave of panic rush over me.

I shuffled and nearly slammed myself into the door. I threw myself at the handle, trying to budge it. I jiggled and jangled it. I slammed and squiggled it.

But... it... wouldn't move!

"I've been stuck up here for three weeks... I can't get the door open" he sauntered behind a corner and disappeared into the darkness.

I gave up. My breath was lost, my hands and arms hurt. I kicked the door and pushed it. But in the end, I was too tired to do anything. "Three weeks? How do you _eat_?" I shouted breathlessly into the door.

"I have a food supply up here..." he replied quietly and yawned. I heard a ruffle of something and the stretching of the leather suit.

"Why was I able to get in but not out?" I threw my back against the door and slid down so I was sitting against the door.

"You have to push to get in. It is easier to p-push..." he yawned again, "than pull."

I stood once more. Where was he?

"WHY ARE YOU SO RELAXED?! I am stuck in a room... with you! Oh, c'mon! I come here to kill you, and now you're my roommate! Why does all the bad luck find me?!" I stomped around the corner. I saw him staring up at me, but he was lying down. He had a bed up here... why hadn't I guessed? He looked awfully cramped... all curled up in a ball. His hands lied off the side of the bed.

"Because..." he smiled tiredly and his eyes were droopy, "I'm tired."

His eyes closed.

I scowled. He didn't even scowl. He didn't squint or become offended at my words.

What was I going to do?

**Oh my... I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been very lazy... and I'm enjoying the last of my Summer relaxing and lazing. I have even forgotten what order my stories are supposed to be written. Quite sorry.**

**Sorry so short... it's late and I want to go to sleep! This is a fair-sized chapter, don't you think? A lot happens!**

**And I think I messed up Edward a little too much. He was too... talkative. I'll try to put him more in character next chapter. Maybe he was malfunctioning because of the mix of fear and drowsiness. :) Either way... please R&R! I haven't had any in a long time... I am anxious to hear what you think!**

**Thank you for reading! **


	3. BloodBath Battle Scars of Revelations

The bright sunlight twinkled in my newly opened eyes. I groaned as I cracked my neck. I was leaning up against the wooden, cracked wall hued in gray, like everything else in this damned house. Sitting down, legs bent, back arched, I folded my hands in my bent lap.

Then I really remembered where I was.

How did I know this? I was staring at the morning sky in the attic of a Gothic mansion. Where else would I be?

My dreary, tired eyes widened and I sprang to my feet. I almost tripped over a... blanket? How did that get there? It fell off of my body as I stood, and landed on the plywood floor with a soft 'thump'. It was a purple fleece.

How could I fall asleep? I stayed up until four in the morning to finish homework in college... why was I so tired?! I hated myself right now.

But I hated someone else a whole lot more.

"Scissorhands!" I called out, clearing my throat. I searched on the ground for my knife, but to no avail. If Scissorhands stole it, I swear...

I heard a shuffling in response. Of course it was him, for the stretch of leather accompanied the scuffling.

He appeared from a shadow-covered corner. His skin was shinier and his scissors glistened in the fresh sunlight. I noticed little details that I didn't before, like little scars on his face. He must accidentally cut himself from time to time, for his fingers were razor sharp blades. He walked oddly, like he was rushing to get somewhere. His steps were short and quick, which I should have noticed.

His expression, to say the least, was terrified.

My fierce expression lessened. He sucked is lower lip in slightly and avoided my gaze. Maybe I was too tired to be mean...

"Good morning... I guess..." I cleared my throat again and his eyes widened at me. I almost glared back, but instead twitched a small smile.

He also twitched his lips up into a smile, but his stayed longer than mine. "Good morning..."

I rubbed my head slightly and groaned. "What... time is it?" I sighed.

"Six in the morning. Today is Saturday, July fourteenth..." he stared up at the sky now, his dark, black eyes squinting into the sunlight.

A small breeze blew in, forcing Scissorhand's hair to tremble. It suddenly made me shiver, and I leaned down and grabbed the blanket from the floor. I wrapped it carefully around me, the soft fabric instantly soothing my goosebump-covered skin.

A smell of fresh mowed grass filled my nose. Birds chirped and Scissorhands's head turned towards the other wall across from the gaping hole in the roof.

He scooted over to the other wall. A dirty window was soon in front of his face and he began to grin. I stared confusingly at him as his head tilted.

His eyes... softened. His eyelids began to droop in a daze, and he twitched a bigger smile.

"It seems Kevin was put to work on the lawn this morning..." he chuckled a slightly feminine (Ugh!) laugh and closed his eyes. He had few, thin eyelashes... and no eyebrows.

What was he talking about? I knew a Kevin, one of my ex-boyfriends. But he lived in Brooklyn...

My thoughts were interrupted when Scissorhands sighed. He turned again and returned to his shadowy corner. I could no longer see him, for the darkness covered his off-white skin.

"Where'd you go?" I cautiously stepped towards the corner, where I heard snip after snip... snip, oh listen, another snip!

Snip. Snipity snip.... SNIP!

I blinked and growled, agitated, and turned towards the wall I slept against.

Shock threw over me. Like a tsunami wave from the ocean, pain and hatred threw itself at me, almost knocking me over. My face drained all color and became cold. My heartbeat quickened, my arms giving way to the pressure. The blanket dropped to the floor, and I heard no sound except for the insensitive breaths of my body and my own heartbeat.

The window... the cracked, open, glass thrown out... window. So... this was where it all took place. I had... _slept... _where my dying brother was skewered and killed, only a few floors down from me.

A knot was getting tied tighter and tighter in my stomach. How Scissorhands could tie the knot is unknown, but he was certainly pulling the rope.

My legs managed to step a baby-step closer to the window. I heard the floors creak beneath me.

I didn't notice that there were snips were still going on until they stopped. Now was silence... complete, cold, insistent, dark silence...

I touched the broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It sliced into my finger and blood began to pour out. A tear slid down my face along with a blood drop.

The blood landed on the grass on the ground of the garden.

My eyes widened with realization and hate. Haha... my blood was where his was...

"Scissors..." I turned my head sideways, not fully seeing him.

He had come out of his corner... just standing there... behind me.

I turned fully towards him. His expression was blank, but he hinted with fear. His eyes burned with terror, but he was still. He did not tremble... or move. He was stuck, and he knew that I would certainly move him.

I stepped towards him and I was soon close enough to him where he had to look directly down to see me. I gazed up at him with... not anger... not sadness... but...

No emotion at all.

Now he trembled. I put one hand on his shaking chest. His breathing was quick and scared. The leather was tough and thick...

I only placed my fingertips on the center of his chest. I could feel his cool breath on the top of my head as I drummed my fingers against him.

"Let me see your hand..." I did not say this in a devilish way. I was not cruel. I was not mean. I was... blank. I had no emotion... monotone.

He swallowed and made no move.

I held out my open palm and raised my eyebrows to him. He made no move still.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." I rolled my eyes and frowned.

He still stared at me and held his left hand out limply.

"Which hand did you use to kill him?" I stared at the shiny blades of his fingers.

He twitched the fingers of his left hand, making snipping sounds. He knew who I was talking about... no doubt.

I grabbed the wrist of his left hand and pulled it towards me. I clenched my jaw and ran my fingers over the smooth side of one of the blades.

He whimpered.

I ignored him and continued to search the silver blades. They were smooth and not-sharp on the sides.

I became brave and ran my finger, my middle which was not cut by the window, over the blade. The pain was bearable, for it was a little scrape.

"Why do you do that to yourself?" he was quiet and still sacred as to what I was going to do.

I did not look up at him. I let the blood get on his blades as I inspected them. He had scissor handles that I traced with my fingers.

I finally gazed up at him, mood apathetic. "Because I know it compares to nothing..." I smirked loosely.

He widened his eyes as both he and I gazed at the blood dripping on the floor. It did hurt, but I was too ecstatic over my plans to notice.

His lip now pulled inward. He whimpered again.

"Shh... don't make a sound, no matter what I do..." I widened my own eyes and raised his own hand up to his face.

He almost whimpered and his eyes were wider than ever. His invisible eyebrows were pulled together, his body tense.

I ran one of his blades over his cheek. He did bleed... how unexpectedly pleasing. I had heard he didn't bleed for some odd reason... but who believes anything that the psycho old bags in the neighborhood said?

His new cut was long and not-too-deep. He clenched his terrified eyes shut in pain and I smiled.

I made the blade go all the way down his cheek. I applied little force, but yet blood arose and dripped onto the blade.

He opened them and stared at me with pleading eyes. "Please stop..." his voice was shaky and high.

I tilted my head. "I would say that was noise..." I applied more force and he closed his eyes again. More blood came...

I couldn't say I was enjoying myself, no. But I couldn't say I wasn't. This idiot... ugh, he made me sick! I found it funny how he made no effort to move his own hand... haha.

Great... now I'm a psychopathic person. But it was only towards Scissorhands... this imbecile cranked my gears and made them grind.

I let the blade go and he pulled it down at his side. I put my finger on his gash and wiped some blood from it.

I started to push his chest with my fingers. "Get against the wall. Go!" I snapped and pushed him one more time, he stumbled back. I bombarded him until his back was leaned against a wall, the one the window was on. He whimpered loudly now.

"Don't hurt me..." his head banged against the wall and I pushed his back farther and harder against the wall.

His head turned so his right ear was pressed against the gray, shingled wall. It creaked and trembled.

"Why shouldn't I? You can beg all you want... but why? What have you," I boomed my voice into his ready-to-cry face, "done to show me that you don't deserve it?!"

He only continued to whimper and opened one eye.

"God, you are pathetic!" I laughed.

I listened to his whimpering. "Get... go away!" he almost yelled.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Haha... so assertive, Scissorhands!"

OW!OWOWOWOW! I threw myself away from him and gripped my thigh. UGGHHH!

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, SCISSORS?! YOU STAB ME?! UUGHHH!" I gripped the wound tighter. My God, that hurt like hell! I groaned and collapsed on the floor, unable to support my own weight. He created a gash on my thigh with his built-in weapons.

"My name..." Scissorhands approached me and towered over me. He stood over my body that lay on the floor, gash in leg, "is Edward!"

Oh my God! He... kicked me! I almost laughed, but I had to admit... it felt like he was made of iron with how hard he kicked me.

"YOU BASTARD!" I stood up, instantly retaliating. This loser... ugh, he pushed my buttons.

He did not back down. His eyes wide, courage pierced within them, he started to approach me again.

I ran toward him, instead. The cut in my thigh burned, but like I said, I would push away all weariness. I threw my fist into his face and he groaned in pain, head turning to the blow.

I took his pause as my advantage. I threw my foot into his abdomen and he crouched in pain. I slammed my elbow into the back of his neck and watched him fall.

He wrapped his arms around my leg, not cutting me. He pulled me down to the floor with him and threw his body over mine.

He threw his own elbow into my cheek bone and... ow, it hurt! I struggled under him, but he pinned me down.

"Ow! Get off of me!" I slammed my fists into his chest but he did not move.

Heavy, wimpy, scissor-handed man.

"Stop!" He held his scissor hand over my neck. If I moved from my pinned position at all, the blade would surely slice my neck open. I felt the cold steel on my skin and glared up at him. I gasped for breath when he put more pressure on my neck.

He glared right back at me. His lips were pursed now in a straight line. Anger seethed from him.

Fury oozed from me.

I searched with my tilted head for something to attack with...

My arms were pinned with his arm, for he had thrown my own arm over my body to hold it with the arm that wasn't against my neck. My legs were pinned by his legs.

I almost smiled at my discovery. How would I get it...? Oh, I would get Scissorhands so bad with this... oh, I just needed to get it!

I struggled with my arms one more time. Ah ha! He was so focused on the hand to my neck that he weakened his hold on my arms!

One came free and he panicked. His mouth became agate and I slapped him in the face with my free hand. He turned his head, and I took my advantage.

I threw my hand above my head. I gripped the golden blade and pulled it toward me. Oh... don't let go! It was only held with my index finger and my middle finger. Ugghh...

YES!

I flipped the blade in my hand and gripped the handle.

Scissorhands had turned his head back, and I grinned and evil grin.

I drew the golden blade to his throat. He seemed flabbergasted and we both drew breaths.

That was the only sound. Tortured breaths. Shallow breaths...

Of the two of us.

"You do it, I do it" Scissorhands remarked and gulped between breaths.

"Same here, Scissorhands..." I growled and curled my lip upwards.

"I told you..." he pursed his lips, "my name is Edward."

"Pleasure to meet you, Edward..." I was sarcastic and I smirked.

"Nice to meet you too... erm..." he blinked in confusion.

"Rose... Rose Smith..." I gulped and suddenly found myself staring at his eyes. They switched emotions so quickly. One minute, he was pathetic, the next, he was Mr. Tough-guy.

Right now... he was weary. Cautious, angry, a little bit relaxed as of now.

Both of our lives hung in the balance... and we were introducing ourselves. Haha...

"I would shake your hand," Edw-Scissorhands... smirked, "but I wouldn't want to hurt you, of course."

I scoffed and found myself smirking. "I'd give you a nice pat on the back with my knife..." I nodded my head, as much as I could without stabbing myself, and smiled.

We both chuckled.

I felt the steel bore on my neck as I laughed. I'm sure Edw- darn it, Scissorhands- wasn't very comfortable himself.

I wondered what was going to happen next.

"I like the name Rose..." he tilted his head slightly, "because roses are my favorite flower."

I raised my eyebrow. "Me too. Especially the ones that come out mid-August."

"The beginning of the rose season..." he smiled slowly and slightly.

I smiled in response. "Yes... and sometimes they are prettiest when withered-"

"In between a book's page..." he erected his head once more.

Heh... the dork likes roses.

We both merely stared now.

"What... do we do... now?" his voice returned to his timid, careful, scared little boy voice.

I blinked and shrugged slightly. It was obvious that the tension had eased a little. The fury still -existed, but now it was washed down with... awkward-ness.

"All I know is that my arm hurts..." I responded to him.

"My face hurts..." he squinted, but smiled, at me.

"Maybe because it's so damn ugly!" I smirked and giggled, "you don't need any cuts to prove that!"

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Maybe your arm hurts because it's so flabby!"

I was soon open-mouthed. We shot insults back and fourth, but they weren't really insults. They were... I don't even know. We smiled and mocked each other, and it was fun!

"Scissorhands-" I blinked and pursed my lips, "...Ed-ward..." I spat and I added staccato to each syllable.

I did feel as if I gave away some of my pride to him. I should call him whatever I want... not by his pleasure.

He was being nice to me to get in my head. He was a better fighter than I thought... he appeared wimpy, but he wasn't. He was... thick and heavy. He was stronger than he looked, and I had to admit... it was impressive.

He raised his invisible eyebrow. "Yes?" he smiled at his name. Ugh... I felt sick.

"Can we let go?" I swallowed, and he twitched a smile.

"You do, I do, Rose."

I rolled my eyes. "You go first. It's obvious that I'm better than you... you should submit to me!"

"Ha! Then why are you pinned beneath me?" he smirked and licked his thin-at-certain-places lips. He was a cocky boy... it made me laugh.

"Because I'm a girl-"

"Ah... I must say..." he interrupted me, "I usually don't fight women. You aggravate me so much to the point where I am willing throw my morals out the window. That's how horrible you are!"

I raised my eyebrows. "Damn proud to be representing!" I winked and smiled.

He smiled.

Then he moved off of me. He moved his scissor hand off of my neck, and I realized this was a great relief.

As he moved, I put down my knife. We basically out down our weapons, and out guards, at the same time.

He stood up and rushed, with his small, quick, little steps, to his dark little corner.

I heard him whimper, softly, but painfully...

Ugh, who cared about him?! My leg was killing me! I supported myself with my weak arms to get up. I limped as far as I could go... until I collapsed. I screamed out in pain, for now my ankle was twisted.

"Damn!" I gripped my leg, but then my fingers that were cut began to burn.

I gave up on healing myself. My fingertips, leg, and ankle were now hurt. I couldn't walk, and I couldn't touch.

Instead, I wallowed in my own pain. I listened to Edward's pained whimpers, and wondered what it was all about. The idiot cuts his face all the time. What was so bad now?

I grunted and swallowed. "Edward... you okay?" I put all of my effort into propping myself up on my elbows.

He whimpered in response. I saw his white skin, splattered with red, appear from the shadows. He looked like he should be crying... but he wasn't. Edward shuffled from the darkness, blood trailing from his face, down onto his chest and so on. It trickled from his mouth, probably from the punches I threw. His already existent scars were now hidden beneath blood, and his black eyes seemed pained.

He looked worse than me, and I knew it.

"I don't know..." he softly whimpered and sighed.

His leather suit shined with the blood, and he shook his head slowly. He shuffled to the far side of the room. He knelt down and picked up something gently with the tip of his scissor finger.

"Here..." he stood once again and approached me.

He threw me a cloth. It was about as big as my head and it was cleaner than my own shirt.

He returned to his little, dark corner and I heard him sigh.

I looked down at the cloth, ran the wool fabric over my hands, and rolled my eyes. I knew he wanted me to clean up my blood with it, but I...

Ugh.

"Edward..." I brought myself up and shook as I supported myself. I held my injured leg up, and hopped a little closer to the corner, holding the cloth, "why did you give this to me?"

He made no movement, but don't need any of your snipped his fingers. "I don't need any of your blood on my floors. Add pressure to your wound... it will stop bleeding and make you feel better."

I scoffed. This guy... ugh, I don't even know. I tossed the cloth over in the darkness, not knowing where he was.

"I don't want it... you need it," I almost fell over but caught myself, "more..."

His whimpering stopped and I instead heard him sigh. "No I don't..." He tossed it back unusually accurately.

I smirked. So this was going to be another game...

I didn't feel like playing.

I didn't know how he could see me, but I couldn't see him. I began to hobble towards the dark corner, which was dark because of the arched roof.

I soon began to realize how he saw me. It wasn't as dark as it appeared in the corner at all, but a mere shadow. The sunlight caused the arched roof to cast a shadow.

His black, leather suit blended in with the dark shadow and gray wall. If it wasn't for the blood, white skin and shiny, metal fingers, I never would have noticed him. He was sitting leaned up against the wall that cracked and chipped paint. He was in a position most like the one I slept in, back arched, legs bent, but his hand were splayed out to his sides. His eyes followed me, filled with sadness and curiosity.

I chucked the rag, balled up into a ball, at his sad face. I knew blood got on it, and he shook his head to make the rag fall in his lap.

He was beginning to stand, but I hobbled over to him and pushed him down with my hand on his shoulder. I picked up the rag, and flopped myself down next to him. I landed with a 'thump' on a hard, plywood, gray floor. I made no effort to get down gently, for I knew that I wouldn't get anywhere with that. I shuffled myself in the same position that he was in and I sighed. My leg hurt, but I knew that Edward was in more pain. He showed no expression of pain, while I squinted my eyes and groaned.

I reached my arm up to his face. I pulled on a little tuft of his hair playfully and he smiled a little. His eyes followed and stared... it was a little creepy.

I reached for the cloth and It was soon in my hand. There was definitely blood on it... and that didn't matter. It was his, and he needed it more.

Even though my leg hurt and bled, his face... was just... ugh, I felt horrible.

I had never had much of a conscience, especially when hurting people. But... his eyes and face... something about this fool made me feel bad. Ugh, did he do that with everybody?

He flinched back from my hand that held the rag to his face.

"Be calm... your face is cut worse than I thought..." I did not lie... poor guy.

He relaxed when I started on his forehead. There was no cut, but somehow blood spattered onto it. His bent invisible eyebrows relaxed and I moved down his face.

The cloth didn't completely clean him up, but it helped him a great deal.

"I..." he broke the silence and began to look into my eyes again, "I'm sorry I hurt you..."

I stopped dabbing his face and looked at him, agitated. "You... hurt _me?_ Ha! Look what I did to you!" I held up the rag, almost covered in blood.

"I don't hurt... I cut my face a lot... it's... that" he carefully raised one finger and pointed towards my leg, "and your face... and I kicked you..."

He began to whimper.

I suddenly pulled the rag away when he began to stand. I couldn't get up... at least not quickly.

He shuffled quickly, whimpering, over to his bed. He still had blood on his face, but he scooted into it without a hitch. He curled up in his little ball and continued to whimper.

After much effort and pain, I was standing up. I left the bloody rag where it was, unable to bend down and pick it up, and hopped towards Edward.

He didn't hurt me. I have been hurt like this many a times. That guy... ugh.

But what if this was all a trick? What if he knew that I would follow him, and then attack when I approached him?

I had to take my chances, I guess...

I was soon by his side, well, maybe not soon, but I was by his side. I was on my knees and reached a stretched arm over to a corner of the purple, fleece blanket from where I slept. It was a large blanket... it could easily fit a king-sized mattress.

I barely hooked the corner of the blanket with my thumb and forefinger, but I pulled it towards me.

"Edward..." I held the two corners of the blanket with my two hands, "I think you need to chill out... I'm fine. It's you I- well, need to fix. Because if you die from blood-loss, I'll be just like you," I pulled the blanket over his trembling body, "a murderer. And that's not something..." I paused and closed my eyes, "either of us want to be."

Yes... ugh. Yes, I half lied about him not wanting to be a murderer. Judging by his depressed actions towards me... fake or not, he didn't want to hurt me.

He began to whimper strongly again. "I never wanted to hurt anyone..." he cried out softly.

Why didn't he just cry? It was pathetic watching him sit and whimper.

I tucked a little bit of the blanket beneath his cold, heavy body.

"Then why did you?" I softly said, as if I was a teacher talking to a sensitive student in trouble.

"What do you do when a man you already do not like..." he sighed, "comes into your home, shoots a gun at you, forces drywall to fall on your head, and beats you with a metal pipe?"

I widened my eyes. "We _are _talking about Jim... right?"

A gun? Since when did Jim carry a gun when he went up to Edward's mansion? He beat him? No... this was not the story I heard.

"I have not damaged anyone else... well, until..." he whimpered again, "now."

My eyebrows stitched together. "That's not what I heard..."

His whimpering slowed and near silenced. "What... did you hear?"

He rolled over and looked at me with bent invisible eyebrows.

"I just heard that..." I pondered, "you were up here with a girl and Jim came. You just... flipped or something, and attacked the poor kid."

He closed his eyes and smirked a small smile, still whimpering slightly. "That's half the story, I guess..."

I tried to sit down, and after some time, I was flopped on the floor. My legs were stretched, and I could see Edward's pained eyes in my peripheral vision.

"What's the _whole _story?" I was quiet as he stared at me. His eyes were calm and soft and he blinked slowly.

"You have the main points... but it makes me," he grinned dismally, "seem like the worse guy. And I don't say 'bad guy', because we were both bad."

I searched his sad, soft eyes and blinked. "Tell me... I hate being lied to. The fact that Kim and everybody else lied to me... ugh!"

He seemed as if he understood. Then his eyes widened and started to glisten. "You know Kim?"

"Yes... we are kind of friends..." I groaned. I did not lie. She was a girly cheerleader, and I was the athletic mountain-climber. We were associated because I used to be a cheerleader, but now we didn't really hang out.

He smiled. "I was up here with Kim..." his eyes sparkled, "this was after Jim... well, maybe not Jim. Whoever was driving Jim's van, apparently having too many," he closed his eyes, "and was driving too fast down Suburbia."

I knew Jim and Jim's friends had drinking problems. I knew they were young and liked to get drunk and party. I never knew if any of them did any drugs or anything... but I assumed and wished he didn't. He was not a drunk, but he liked to binge and have fun. No doubt it got his jock friends in trouble. Many a policeman visited our house.

"Kevin, the boy I saw who was mowing the lawn this morning, was coming home from a friend's house. He was crossing the street and the van..." he didn't finish.

"It obviously didn't hit him if you saw him this morning. What happened?" I leaned on my elbows behind me.

"I was with Kim in the house when I saw Kevin crossing the street. Before that... hm... you see, I used to be down there. Peg, Kim's mother," he smiled, "came up here and took me down with her. I trimmed the rather unruly bushes into... well, I assume you saw my garden."

"Shapes and such" I remembered the incredible garden. I wondered, as magnificent as it was in the night, what it looked like in the sun.

"Yes. Well, one feel over. I knew it was the van , because I recognized the flame decals on the side. It was speeding on the street, Kevin was crossing... I ran over."

I nodded, urging him to continue.

"Obviously... when I tackle somebody, even to save them, I cut them. It gets worse when I am nervous as to whether Kevin is alright. I hurt Kevin..." he frowned and cleared his throat.

"So, how does this relate to Jim?"

"Everyone didn't see that I saved Kevin. All they saw was Kevin's cuts... and of course, they urged me away. I ran up to my attic... and Kim followed. She tried to hide me, to make sure I was alright."

I stared with arched eyebrows. This was not what I heard... he had saved a little kid? Who was Kevin? Why was he so special?

"Jim came, very angry that I was with 'his girl'. We had been pestering each other ever since I knew Kim had a boyfriend. He came up with a gun, and shot at me. It would have hit Kim in the head, but she had ducked. That is one thing that makes me angry. You can beat on me all you want, but when you start to even agitate any one of my friends or... hopeful other... I get angry. Plus, the fact that he wasn't my favorite person in the world certainly added to my anger. Jim shot again, hitting the roof above me as I stood to confront him... and it hit me. Buried in rubbish, I began to stand. Apparently, Jim had found a broken pipe in the wall and tore it off. He basically beat me to the ground. Kim surprised me," he smiled and had that odd little sparkle in his eye, "when she tackled him and used my scissors to threaten him. That was when I noticed... Kim had blood on her dress. When I was getting up... did I hit her? This angered me, for I had done something that I never wanted to do. I hurt the girl that enchanted my dreams."

I sat and listened as a daze enveloped his eyes. It was upsetting to hear that my brother, whom I basically worshiped, was a drunk driver that carried a gun and beat a guy with a pipe while we was down over a girl. I swallowed back the tears. I knew that he was really good boy... but... he did have problems! But I didn't know he would have this background.

"Well... You know what happens next. From this morning, I think we both know what happens when a strike of anger against someone hits you."

I looked down, feeling bad. Why did I act the way I did? I don't even know! It was the fact that I could get Edward. The fact that I could finally get him back for what he did... it overpowered.

"Edward..." I looked up at him with teary eyes, "do you know why I didn't exactly _like _you?"

"I killed your brother..." he whimpered and blinked.

"No... well, yes," I swallowed the lump in my throat. A tear streamed down my face, and as I spoke, my voice cracked, "but... it was how you killed him, Edward. You thought nothing of it! You just tore your fingers through and... and pushed him out that window. I don't know what you were thinking, but all I know, is that I can relate to you. That feeling of... just wanting to hurt that idiot that hurt you or somebody else. And... it sickens me, how much we are alike. Haha, we give a bad name to the human race." I laughed pathetically, wiping away a tear.

"_You _give the human race a bad name." I thought he may be joking, but he did not smile.

"I thought we could come to some sort of an alliance of that one..." I blinked, letting the welling tears stream down my face.

"Well, I'm not human... so only you would give a bad name to something that you are" he smiled weakly.

I widened my eyes. "You... aren't human?!" I almost shouted.

"Have you ever seen a human with scissorhands?" he grinned. I could tell he was staring at my tears... for when they dropped from my face, his eyes followed them. He looked depressed... ha.

"What... _are you?"_

I had to admit, this scared me. He was telling me he wasn't human, this was not the most casual conversation.. What else could he be?!

He chuckled half-heartedly. "I thought you knew"

The sun came out from behind a cloud. It shone on Edward's white skin and brought out the scars even more. I wanted to touch his face... it seemed so fair, yet tainted with bulging scars. Of course, the blood ran over his scars, and the wound that supplied it would create a new scar... bigger than all the rest.

"No..." I blinked.

"I'm more of a cyborg than anything..." he appeared to bright up a little.

"A cyborg? So you're a robot?"

"Yes... I was built by my father. He always said I was born... but I knew, after reading my book, that I was a 'robot'."

"Why the emphasis on 'robot'?"

"Because he always said that I was more human than robot... with emotions and insides, just like everybody else."

"Where'd your dad go?" I watched as his expression drooped once more. Like a flower from Summer to Autumn, it was alive once, then quickly withered and browned. His eyes glazed over like the snow that would cover the flower in the winter.

"He didn't wake up."

I put my hand on his shoulder and another tear fell. He jumped slightly, obviously still startled by me. But he lessened his tension and I moved closer to him. I carefully put my head on his chest, knowing I would get blood on my face, but not caring.

I could hear his breathing. I could hear a heart beat, not knowing if it was really a heart or some robotic twitch or gear moving. I put the hand that was on his frail shoulder on is back and traced his spine. A spine...

I closed my eyes, another tear streaming from my face. Edward whimpered again, and it was louder now that I was pressed against his chest.

I opened my eyes again and dug my nails into his back. He groaned in pain and I smiled.

"Neither did mine."

**Hello again! **

**First off, I would like to say sorry for this taking so long. Shhh... I'm supposed to be working on my other stories' chapters... Why did I write this one first then? That's next.**

**So why did I write this one before my other chapters. The reason is more support!**

**I would like to thank, with all of my heart, both Mattiemo and Vespisia. They are my reviewers for this story. I was thinking of dumping this story, because I was getting no response, ten I got two reviewers! THANK YOU BOTH! **

**So, please review. I won't beg you to, but we all know what a joy it is to get reviews!**


	4. The Last Inch

Black eyes,

Blue skies.

Leather suits,

Combat boots.

~.~.~.~~.~.~.~

He snipped and snipped at the wooden door. It only made scratches and no difference in opening it, but there was nothing else better to do. He sat cross-legged on the floor, blank expression paling his features even more than they already were.

I sighed and picked at a chipping piece of paint from the wall. I also sat on the floor, but Indian style. God, this was so boring! What did he do for three weeks?!

And, to make matters worse, I had to go to the bathroom. And, to make _that_ even worse, I was starving! It is never a good combo, people! I writhed on the floor that I sat on, Indian style. I'd hold it.

But this is going to suck.

"What do you have to eat up here?" I moaned to the also bored-looking Edward. He gazed at me from across the wide room, snipping a last snip on the door. His eyes widened when I broke the silence.

He could see I was agitated. He better be careful with what he says.

He then stood up slowly. The squeaks of his leather suit were the only sound, other than another sigh from me.

Ever since last night, after he told me what happened, he had been very quiet. I didn't know if he was just awkward, or if he just wasn't feeling well.

He walked over to me, smiled a short grin, and beckoned for me to stand up. I stood and put one hand on his arm.

He began to walk over to somewhere. I didn't follow, crossing my legs. "Hold on, give me a second..."

I cringed as he tilted his head slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, more like squeaked.

I glared at him, while his eyes stayed soft and merely confused.

I came out of my stance, hoping I wouldn't come that close to peeing my pants again.

"Okay, where's your stash?" I asked casually as I went into a relaxed position. Well, as relaxed as I could get myself.

He nudged his head to the left and began walking, and I did follow this time. He led me over to the wall in which the gaping hole in the ceiling existed.

There laid a box. Just an ordinary box. It was a cardboard box, but it seemed like a sturdy box. In this box, for it was open, were cans. Cans of food. I bent down and he snapped his hands behind his back so that he would not hit me as I bent down.

My ankle still hurt, and my clothes were still bloodstained. It bothered me, because when I got out of here (which I will), someone would think I killed someone.

Or someone tried to kill me.

Well, we tried to kill each other. But it still applied.

"You can have the rest. I don't eat much anyway..." he stepped back slowly, eyes wide, his steps slow and gentle.

FOOD! That was all I was thinking. FOOD! I could EAT! I haven't eaten since breakfast of two days ago, and I was exhausted. The clanking of the cans could have been more mouthwatering than a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving, when you were starving.

As I dug through the cans of mandarin oranges and diced peaches, I stopped. I stood back up, empty handed. I turned back to Edward, a frown on my face.

"I'm not going to eat _all _of this... there's at least twenty five cans in here..." I squeaked out. My voice was dry, for I was also thirsty. But the fruit in the cans would help.

He turned his head towards me. He had his back to me, for he was facing his massive collection of newspaper clippings. I had taken a look at these at night, when the moon was out and it shone brightly. Edward refused to fall asleep until I did. So he let me examine them as he did. I asked for an explanation, and he said that they all had something to do with his father. What he was created from. There was a picture of Jesus, while next to it was an ad of 'I WILL NEVER DIET AGAIN!'

I didn't ask any more questions.

Anyway, he clenched his jaw shortly. He stared at me blankly. "Eat whatever you want, for I can go without food for weeks."

"Weeks? How?" I widened my eyes. How can a single... robot thing... live for two weeks without food?!

"How I was made... my main power system..." he snipped his hands together and turned back to examine his photos. There were so many of them, it was hard to distinctly identify a specific picture. They were so clustered together... like a strange collage.

I nodded, wanting a more thorough explanation, but knowing I won't get it. I turned back to the box and began to search again. I decided on a can of diced pears to start. Pears were my favorite.

But... how would I open the can? I needed some sort of blade, like a-

Oh.

"Hey, Edward," I called to him and gently walked over to him.

I plopped myself down beside him and smiled.

"Need help with the can?" he inquired. Then he smiled gently as I shrugged. I didn't notice that the sparkle in his eye was gone until it came back that very moment.

I nodded and giggled. I held up the can shyly and looked at him.

He held one of his scissor-fingers up to the top of the can. He punctured it with ease, brute strength being a main component. He looked like a scrawny weakling, but from out fight, he certainly wasn't.

He sawed the top of the can off and withdrew his hand. The pears swam in a pool of their own preservatives and water.

FOOD!

"Thank you!" I held the can up to my lips and drank down the sweet liquid that the pears bathed in.

He smiled. "That's what I'm here for..." he returned to gazing at the photos.

I picked up one cube of pear from the can and began to stare at the pictures too. I popped it in my mouth, barely chewed, and swallowed.

Edward blinked and chuckled.

I popped another five cubes in my mouth and looked at him, swallowed, and smiled. "What?"

He pointed at one, small picture on the far left corner of is collection. He was careful not to snip it or cut it.

It was a picture of a belly button. It was on a man, and it was from the bottom of the man's ribcage, and cut off where the denim of his jeans began.

I giggled. What was so funny about a belly button?

"What is the point of that thing?" he set his hand down once again.

"Well... that's where the umbilical cord is connected to the mom and the baby" I held up my shirt slightly and showed him. He looked at it and tilted his head.

"Women have them too?" he seemed amazed.

And I burst out laughing. "Yes, Edward..." I giggled.

I put my shirt back down and he still chuckled.

"Everyone has one" I simply stated and finished off my pears.

"I don't" Edward shrugged.

I looked at him and he looked right back. Awkward.

"Well, you aren't exactly human..." I writhed in my seat again, knowing that the bad part of drinking pear-juice was knowing that it would go straight to my bladder.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he questioned again.

"No reason" I smiled, knowing that he knew there was indeed a reason.

He raised his eyebrow. "Yes there is. Are you okay?"

"Fine, dandy actually. Quite peachy. Ah, now I want peaches..." I stood up again and walked back over to the box, returning with a can of peaches.

He opened that one with a smile and I chugged down the entire can, peaches and liquid, in less than thirty seconds.

"So, what's going on today? I'm so BORED! And you've been up here for three weeks?!" I sighed and put my weight on my arms, as I sat with them behind me.

"Nothing. Absolutely. Nothing" he sighed too, "and my sculptures are probably so unruly..."

I sighed. He was talking about his bushes outside. The magnificent garden that still amazes me.

I nodded slowly, not knowing what to say to that. I remembered how Diana loved to garden-

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, worry enveloping me, "Diana!

I felt sick, because I forgot about her! She probably went home and called the police and everything. Now she's got my parents worried, and when I came home blood-soaked, they'd file for an arrest against everyone in the city except me.

"Who's Diana?" he squeaked.

"My friend who I went camping with! I sneaked up here at night when she was sleeping! She probably thinks a bear ate me or something!" I panicked and stood.

"Where is she?" he looked up at me.

"I don't know! She may have headed back home, or stayed at the camp."

He stood also, and shrugged.

~.~.~.~~.~.~.~

I had eaten a total of ten cans full of fruit. They were big cans, about the size of a Prego Sauce jar.

Now I could not move, or I would pee in my pants.

I whined and writhed, trying not to think about it, but oh well. It didn't work.

Edward shook his head rapidly, like when I grabbed his hair. I didn't know what he was trying to do, but he looked retarded.

"What are you doing?" I crossed my legs and wiggled.

"Brushing my hair" his voice was vibrating with his dog-like movements, but I pieced things together.

"Good luck!" I giggled, but then stopped and crossed my legs harder.

He then stopped. He sighed and blinked.

"Light headed?"

"Yes..." he blinked, staring at nothing.

"How did your hair get like that, anyway?" I inquired.

"Your hair would look like this too if you never took care of it" he said gently and began to snip two scissor-fingers at a silver buckle on his suit.

"It does right now. I haven't showered in three days... the grease itself forces my hair to act like an afro" I whined.

He shrugged. "Your hair isn't straight anymore. It's curly. How?"

"I haven't straightened it."

"Straightened?"

"I have naturally curly hair, so I straighten it with a straightener to make it straight."

He nodded, still confused.

"I hate my hair" I grimaced.

He gave me an aggravated look, a piece of his wild, black, knotted, hair falling in front of his face.

"I could fix that hair for you, if I had a hairbrush with me..." I sighed.

He looked at me and put his back up against the wall. He slid down next to me, on the wall with the smashed window.

Both of our legs were up against our chests. I sighed and closed my eyes. It was sunny out, and the rays of light warmed my skin. It twinkled off of Edward's skin, making it appear more white than an egg.

"You really need to visit a tanning salon, Ed..." I reached out to touch his face, feeling the white scars. It still had his blood on it, but it cleaned off a lot more than it was yesterday.

He smiled and nodded. "I'm low on vitamin D."

"I can see that."

He closed his eyes as I touched his face.

"It has been a while since a human has touched me..." he opened his black eyes and gazed at me.

I smiled gingerly and slapped him lightly as a joke. "How's that for human touch?"

He chuckled, showing a row of perfect teeth.

"As weird-looking as you are, I have to say, you're teeth are wonderful" I put my hand on his shoulder now.

"Thank... you?" he smiled, then tilted his head.

I giggled and put my and down to my side.

"So, how do you think we're going to get out of here?" I crossed my legs and writhed once more.

He shrugged as we both gazed at the door. I wished it would just... open.

I never imagined myself locked in a room with a murderer. It was an odd feeling. But, he... he didn't mean to, as stupid as that sounds. He didn't know any better. Not that it made up for anything, but it gave me a feeling of satisfactory explanation.

I had taken a short liking to this strange, deranged, creature/robot thing with scissors for hands. He acted so sweet, but I knew he wasn't. So quiet, yet so loud. He was the kind of person that speaks with his eyes. You could read this fellow like a book if you just stared at him. How he stood. What he was doing with his 'hands'. It all mattered, and what you said or did next could be life or death.

I guess, deep down, the main reason why I could take a liking to Edward was because I knew how he felt. Shunned by society into some kind of creepy monster, but all too misunderstood. I was always the one with no friends, and it hurt, per say. I was the one made fun of. I was the athletic one that wore jeans and and a t-shirt while all the other girls wore skirts and high heels. I could not hate this creature/robot thing anymore, because I knew what he felt.

I sighed lightly and traced my gaze from the door back to Edward.

"I like the name Edward..." I said quietly. The only sounds were our breathing, and the occasional bird chirping. So when I said something, it was like breaking silence in two.

He turned his head slowly to me, meeting my gaze. "I was named after my grandfather."

"I was named after my grandmother" I smiled, for we had something in common.

He grinned. "Rose is a pretty name."

I smiled and blushed. "Are you flirting with me, Mr. Scissorhands?"

"Are you flirting with _me _Ms. Smith?"

I giggled, because we both knew that neither of us were flirting with anyone.

Then it was silence again. It was always hard for me to start and continue a conversation. Especially when it was with the guy who killed your brother.

Just then, there was a crack. We both looked up to the ceiling's gaping hole, but seeing nothing wrong. It was like a crack of wood, but there was no wood moving.

"That thing better not come down on me. I'll kill you if you're not already dead" I threatened Edward who smiled at my threat. Little did he know I was being serious. I giggled at that thought, because I knew I wasn't.

There was another crack!

I stood up, now finally forgetting my need to pee. Where was that coming from?

"Do you have bugs? I hate bugs. You have a ton of spiders up here, and I've ignored them. But I can't stand anything else, like termites or cockroaches" I looked down at him, who still sat on the floor.

"None that I know of" he also grimaced.

"Gross!" I said as another crack erupted from no where, yet everywhere.

Then there was a loud 'battle cry' from behind the thick, wooden door. Followed by a louder crack then before, and a bang.

The door moved an inch.

Edward began to stand and we both stared in amazement at the door. Who was there?

There was another loud bang and the door moved another inch. Someone, or something, was ramming itself against the door, trying to open it. Who? What?

There was the loudest cry of all, the the door moved ANOTHER inch.

The last inch needed to open the door.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall as it opened. It made a loud BANG as it hit the cracking wood. The door did not move from that spot.

The mysterious person appeared from the doorway.

"Rose?!" her voice rang as she barged into the room, wielding her whittling knife in her hands, facing outward.

"DIANA!" I ran up to her and slapped the knife down. I laughed as I hugged her greatly, and very tightly. Oh my gosh, I was saved! I could get out of here.

"Oh my gosh, you're covered in blood! What happened to-" then she stopped. Stopped hugging me. I released, and, with a smile still on my face, stared at her.

She had a death-worthy glare on her face. She was staring at the scissor-handed man, of course. The only other person in the room, who just happened to have weapons for fingers.

She separated from he and held her knife up to him. "You! You hurt her, you heartless murderer! What is it with you and the Smith family? Well, you hurt my best friend, I hurt YOU!" she sprang after him and his eyes widened.

Her knife went for his heart. It made contact, while Edward just stood there.

The leather suit protected against all blades, I guess.

Diana seemed baffled.

"So, you must be Diana..." he smiled a small smirk.

She put down her knife as he seemed harmless, mouth agate. "Yeah..." she was nervous.

"He's used to people somehow related to the Smith family barging into his home and threatening him" I smiled and he looked at me with his amazing black eyes.

Diana turned to me as I smiled. "Huh?"

"Diana, this is Edward," I motioned my hand toward him.

"No way, Einstein..." she stared at him now.

Edward was not the tallest fellow. But Diana was only five feet tall. He towered over her, twitching his scissorhands nervously. He was at least five foot six. Average.

"He means no harm, Diana..." I sighed and stepped over to the two.

She glared at me in disbelief.

"I'll tell you later..." I shook my head, "now, I need to go. If you know what I mean, Diana..."

She 'oohh'd and nodded. "I packed up camp and went home after the second day. I called the park rangers and police, but they couldn't find you. Your mom is worried sick. I think that before we go, you should change out of your bloody clothes."

I groaned. My mother. I'd have to cross that bridge when I got there.

Diana turned back to me and grabbed my wrist. "We need to get home quickly, so we can let the police know I found you, and you're alright."

I looked at Edward. He smiled and nodded.

I started to walk over to the door with Diana. I didn't know what I was feeling. It was such happiness, yet it was such sadness. I learned a lot about my host the last few days. He shared his home and food with me. Yes, we fought, but that's just me and my temper. This robot thing... acted so human... it was hard to believe he was a machine.

"Wait!" Edward called out to us, but not very loudly.

We stopped and turned to meet his gaze. He shuffled over to the far corner of the room, and started to snip at something on the floor.

I writhed out of her grasp and walked slowly over to Edward. He still smiled, but he looked at me with sad eyes.

"Your knife..." he said softly and looked down. It's golden blade glistened at the light hitting hit. I bent down and grabbed it by the handle and lifted it. I slipped it into the case that still hung from my shorts.

We stood, staring at each other for a moment. It was sweet sorrow. I hated this thing. I despised it.

I grabbed one of his arms and walked under it as I held it up. My face against his chest, I folded my arms around his abdomen. He stiffened and folded his arm, as far as it could go without cutting me, around me.

"Thanks for everything, Edward..." I said quietly and closed my eyes. The leather was cold and sleek. I sighed into his chest.

"You're welcome" his voice was amplified, for my ear was right by his throat.

I broke the hug and nodded. With one last smile from the both of us, I turned and met with Diana.

I walked out of the room that would forever be bloodstained. I walked out of a room of painful memories, yet joyful ones. I walked away from a sweet robot, that I still hated, but now had a special place in my heart for. I'd never go near him again, if I could, but he was nice nonetheless.

I left one of my shoes in between the door and it's frame, keeping it open. I knew he would come down soon, waiting until I left.

His garden was still in good shape, but could certainly use some sprucing up. Little twigs and leaves sticking up from the otherwise precise and beautiful sculptures.

And it felt good when we stopped at a latrine and I could finally use the bathroom.

I will now only remember Edward as a memory. He'll always be there, as the person that I hate the most.

But I could no longer hate him for a story I thought I knew.

* * *

*_*_***FINISH***_*_*

* * *

**Yes! It is done!**

**Please review! Now that it is done, I want to know what people think of it was a whole. =D **

**I hope you enjoyed it!**


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